


Fall Where They May

by flammablehat



Series: March Madness Personal Challenge! [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Stand Alone, Viktor with a K, Yuuri is a precious high strung noodle, my first foray into a new fandom in a hot minute please be gentle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:39:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10043048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/pseuds/flammablehat
Summary: Viktor has a special talent for magically normalizing every strange thing he does.





	

“I don’t see the problem,” Viktor says breezily. There is a cacophony in the background, filtering past the sound of his voice through the phone. 

Yuuri’s in their hotel room, casting about in utter terror because there is only one bed. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri groans. He’s tested the corner chair for comfort (fine to sit in, probably murder to sleep in) and is currently eyeballing the space between the window and the (single) bed. “I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“You have to skate tomorrow. You are not sleeping on the floor,” Viktor says. The background noise has vanished and he says something muffled in what could be Mandarin that includes the name of the hotel. “Relax, Yuuri. I’ll be there soon; I’m sure it’s only a misunderstanding!”

It’s not a misunderstanding. 

Between the Cup of China and a local convention that is either about weddings or crying while in fancy dress, every hotel is packed to the rafters. There is no extra room. There hasn’t been extra room for almost a full year, which is why Viktor’s legendary connections only managed to snag them a ground floor single with their scant two month’s notice. 

“This is great!” Viktor beams, tossing his jacket in the direction of the corner chair. “Shame on you Yuuri, you had me concerned.” 

“But— Viktor,” Yuuri sputters, letting himself be steered under the sheets. 

Viktor pulls the blanket up to his chin and pats his head. 

“Give me a moment to brush my teeth and we will have a good night’s rest!” He carols, floating off toward the bathroom. 

Yuuri lays there in frozen horror until Viktor comes back, at which point he slams his eyes shut and pretends to be sleeping. 

The bed is maybe a full, almost certainly not a queen. It technically _can_ fit two people, depending upon one’s definition of ‘people’ and one’s definition of ‘fit.’ If by ‘fit’ one meant ‘comfortably share’ and by ‘people’ one meant ‘children,’ then yes, it was a bed suited for two occupants. 

Yuuri is not a child. Viktor is definitely not a child. Yuuri thinks he may have accidentally punctured a lung at some point without realizing it because when Viktor slips into the bed his shoulder is warm and he scoots against Yuuri’s side and Yuuri cannot breathe. 

“Sleep, Yuuri,” Viktor mumbles. “We have a big day tomorrow.” 

Viktor has a special talent for magically normalizing every strange thing he does. Likely it is nothing more than the power of his blithe confidence. There’s a small rustle of sheets as he turns off the bedside light and yawns in Yuuri’s ear.

His breath against Yuuri’s cheek is minty and aside from the utter inversion of reality that has him in the same bed as his professional idol and crush of over ten years, Yuuri’s almost cozy. He keeps his eyes shut tight and focuses on his breathing, skating through his short program in his head until he glides into sleep.

***

Yuuri’s alarm doesn’t wake him up immediately, but it does Viktor. Yuuri knows this because it’s Viktor flopping half on top of him to slap at his phone that wakes him up.

“Turn it off!” Viktor whines, and Yuuri realizes, in his heart-pounding launch from sleep, that he’s thrown his arms around Viktor’s waist to keep him from flailing off the other side of the bed. 

Has he mentioned it’s a small bed?

He manages to work a hand free and pokes the snooze button. In the sudden quiet, Viktor settles, dropping his face into the space between Yuuri’s neck and shoulder and tugging the blanket back up over them both. 

Yuuri swallows. Opens his mouth — swallows again. 

“Viktor,” he finally whispers, using the barest press of his fingertips to give him a little shake. “Viktor, we have to get up.”

“Mmmno,” Viktor mumbles. 

Yuuri smiles in spite of himself. “Okay,” he says. “We can skip my short program. The judges probably won’t miss it.”

Viktor glares at Yuuri through the clumped lashes of one sleepy eye, grumbling something that sounds uncharitable. “Five more minutes,” he finally says, burying his nose in Yuuri’s neck. 

It steals the response right out of Yuuri’s mouth. 

It’s easy to forget how much bigger Viktor is sometimes, but the weight of him across Yuuri’s chest is offset only by his softness and his warmth. They fit together so well it’s almost agonizing. 

“Five more minutes,” Yuuri agrees, staring at the ceiling.

***

In Moscow they’re given a suite with two queen beds. Viktor drops his bag in the middle of the first and rubs his eyes, stretching.

After a moment’s consideration, Yuuri sets his bag next to Viktor’s. 

Without missing a beat, Viktor pushes Yuuri onto the empty bed and follows him down.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly thought I'd never feel excited about fandom again but here we are???? Naturally this involved starting two separate (as yet unfinished) PWPs and now here I am, challenging myself to a 30 day ficlet effort based on [this fluffy prompt post](http://rougherandtumblier.tumblr.com/post/157838391955/30-fluff-tropes) from Tumblr. Day 1 is bedsharing.


End file.
